A Song of Fire and Ice and Rage
by e7cg13
Summary: "He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever, he burns at the center of time, and he can see the turn of the universe. And…he's wonderful." Doctor Who x Game of Thrones Crossover. Rated T for now, but will likely change in the future.
1. The Lord of Time Part I

**A Song of Fire and Ice and Rage**

e7cg13

Disclaimer: I do not own either "Doctor Who" or "Game of Thrones", and I am not making any sort of financial profit from this endeavor.

Summary: A series of short stories, varying in length and completely independent of one another, all centered around the idea of crossing the two settings of "Doctor Who" and "Game of Thrones". Will be based on the TV adaptation of "A Song of Ice and Fire", rather than the books.

Author's Note: This first short story, "The Lord of Time", will involve the Eleventh Doctor, Clara, Sansa, and Tyrion. It takes place during a scene from "Garden of Bones" for Game of Thrones, and sometime in between "Hide" and "Journey to the Center of the TARDIS" for Doctor Who. So expect spoilers up to those points for each of those respective shows, as well as major spoilers for season one of Game of Thrones. And without futher ado, here is the first chapter...

_The Lord of Time Part I_

There are vicious kings. There are idiot kings. And there are vicious idiot kings. Unfortunately for Westeros, Joffrey Baratheon just happened to be the latter of the three.

"You're here to answer for your brother's latest treasons," said the royal bastard (literally) with a jeering sneer, as Joffrey pointed a loaded crossbow at his bride-to-be. Lady Sansa Stark knelt on the cold, hard floor of the royal throne room, completely helpless and at her fiance's mercy. Before her stood Sardon Clegane, the Hound, as he stood guard over his king with the utmost diligence expected of a knight.

The sobbing lady felt more tears well up in her eyes, as the stark despondency of her situation washed over her. Standing there right in front of the Iron Throne, the greatest symbol of power in all of the Seven Kingdoms, with a crossbow in hand, Joffrey could end her life on a whim. The old Sansa, before her father had died, would have fainted, or hyperventilated, or broken down in tears under the pressure of the situation she was currently in.

But now she could only sob and beg. That's how she was now; all of her feelings and emotions locked away due to the ticking time bomb that was now her life. The old her, the one filled to the brim with adolescent emotions and innocence and naivety, was gone now.

Any semblance of her old self burned away with fire when Lord Eddard Stark was beheaded, and what was left of her soul after that froze over with ice, molding her into who she was today; a girl who could not appear as anything but a loving and loyal Queen-to-be, lest her father's murderer obliterate her in an act of rage.

"Your Grace," pleaded Sansa in desperation, "whatever my traitorous brother has done, I had no part in it. You know that! Please, I beg of yo-…"

"Ser Lancel," said Joffrey, cutting her short, "Tell her of this outrage."

Sansa turned her head, just in time to see the boy king's addressee step out in front of the rest of Joffrey's court. He was Lancel Lannister, former squire of the late King Robert and now a knight with a high position in court. Sansa's heart wrenched with despair as the blonde-haired man began to speak. He described in detail his account of her brother Rob's battles, which somehow involved sorcery, an army of wolves, and mass cannibalism, which she knew could not be true.

Either the rest of the court was fooled by Lancel's account, or simply played along, as they all engaged in a collective round of disgusted looks and moans that certainly did not make Sansa feel any better about the situation. She turned to look back at Joffrey, and to her horror he looked like he was just a few moments away from executing her on the spot.

"Killing you _would_ send your brother a message…" said the boy king, and Sansa was now sure that her fate was sealed. The young lady finally broke down in a fit of quiet and resigned sobs.

Then, with a sigh, "…but my mother insists on keeping you alive," said Joffrey, and Sansa was allowed to live another day. He gestured for her to stand, and she did. Part of her was happy and relieved that she had been spared once more, although she was still immensely distressed. And with good reason too.

Because now, with the life that Sansa was trapped in, she was never going to be safe. She watched anxiously as he bent down and set his still loaded crossbow on the floor, next to the Iron Throne, waiting for him to say something else; waiting for the "_but_", because Joffrey could never go without causing someone suffering.

Then it came.

"So we'll just have to send your brother a message another way," spoke the boy king as he sat down upon the Iron Throne, before gesturing towards the other present member of his guard, "Meryn. Leave her face…I like her pretty."

Ever faithful and just a tiny bit sadistic, Ser Meryn Trant slowly approached his lord's betrothed, while Sansa could only watch powerlessly. The armored man suddenly grabbed her with a gauntleted arm, and Joffrey's "message" began. A strong blow to the gut left her gasping out in pain and without air, while a follow up strike to the back of her leg with the blunt edge of his blade left her on the floor in agony.

At his master's behest, Meryn then violently stripped Sansa of her clothes, ripping her beautiful light blue dress down the middle of her back. Left indecent on the floor in front of the boy king and his court, and reeling from the pain of her brutal beating, Lady Sansa Stark could do nothing as Ser Meryn raised his arm above her and prepared to strike her again with his sword. She knew this would hurt.

That's when everything changed.

_vworp vworp vworp_

* * *

Clara Oswald eyed her favorite alien while grinning like a madwoman, as she watched the 1200 year old Time Lord work his beloved TARDIS like a pro. He twirled and spun and pivoted around the silver chromed and hexagon-shaped central console energetically, while frequently pushing buttons and pulling levers and fiddling with zigzag plotters seemingly at random in preparation for their next flight.

"So where to next?" asked Clara from the grey slab steps she was sitting on, momentarily interrupting the mad dance of her eccentric host. He stopped and turned to look at her, with an insane grin on his face that matched that of her own.

The Time Lord impulsively straightened his trademark bowtie before speaking, "All of time and space. That's what's next. That is what's always been next. But I'm assuming that you meant for an answer more specific."

Clara rolled her eyes at him. "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't want something specific, now would I?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"Well, I already took you to the Festival Moon of Qualium Lobos," continued the last Gallifreyan, "Lovely place; it's not the only celestial body completely covered in one gigantic festival, but it's definitely the best."

"They had some _really_ great food there," interjected Clara with a far off look on her face.

"Then we went to watch the coronation of the very first New Roman Emperor in the 121st century…"

"That guy was a serious prick."

"…and after that we visited Earth during the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire, which I finally got around to fixing after that little "hiccup" with the Jagrafess and the Daleks…"

"I think that one smoothie that tasted like beef gave me food poisoning. Not good at all."

"…oh, and yesterday we visited the Eye of Orion for the hundredth or so time, which to be honest I'm starting to get tired off. Too restful…"

"Only you would find "too restful" a bad thing," interjected Clara one last time, before she popped up from the stairs with a tiny jump, and began walking towards her travelling partner.

"Oh, I like restful. Restful is cool," added the Time Lord, as he made his way to the long side panel next to the main console to input more coordinates, "But exciting is cooler, so when restful gets in the way of exciting, well, let's just say it's not cool."

The woman twice dead had a brief chuckle over her bowtie wearing friend's antics, before making her way next to him with her arms crossed and impatience clearly written on her pretty face.

"Come on now," started Clara, "Just tell me where we're going next."

He shrugged again, "Well, with you being my guest and all, I was kind of, sort of, a tiny bit hoping to leave that decision up to you."

Clara gave him a cute pout to express her disagreement, "But I picked last time, and the time before that. Now it's your time to choose, Mr. Time Lord. And besides, you're the expert on this, and you're the one who knows all about these places and times we're going to."

The man called the Oncoming Storm gave her a look before walking back to the main console. He typed in a few commands on a green touch screen-like panel before acquiescing, "Fine fine, I'll decide. I know! Let's go to Midnight. Beautiful world, and it has some amazing vacation resorts and tourist spots. Had a bit of a bad experience there in my tenth life though, rather not talk about it; strangey-wangey stuff…"

"If you had a bad experience there…why go back?" asked Clara Oswald, with that same curious look and inquisitive tonal inflection that he loved about her.

The age-old time traveler gave her his usual charming smile, before a distant look appeared on his face, "You've had your own share of bad experiences on Earth, right?"

"Yeah, of course; you were even present for some of them," replied Clara, puzzled by his question, "like me getting my mind downloaded into a data cloud by living Wi-Fi."

"So tell me, after all that," he continued, while looking at her again and straightening his bow tie once more, "do you have any plans of avoiding the planet Earth for the rest of your entire life?"

"No."

"Exactly! Now then, since I've been given the honor of choosing our next destination," said the Time Lord, placing his right hand over one final lever that would activate the Time Rotor, "Midnight it is!"

Clara began grinning like mad again, before gripping the edge of the main console, bracing herself for what she knew was coming next…

"_Geronimo_," declared the Doctor before pulling the lever. And then they were off.

* * *

_vworp vworp vworp_

It sounded like the cross between a screeching whistle, a pained thrumming, and a horde of dying elephants. It was a noise she had never heard before, and it was both magnificent and terrible all at the same time. On one level, it made her ears bleed. While at another, deeper level, the novel sound resonated through her soul like a heavenly chorus.

But no matter what it sounded like, it was music to Sansa's ears. The sudden arrival of the noise had stopped Meryn in his tracks, just short of striking her with his sword, along with Joffrey and the rest of his court. Everyone in the Throne Room, including Sansa, turned their heads to the origin of the noise a few meters behind her. What they saw happening left them even more speechless and confused.

A gust of otherworldly wind manifested seemingly out of nowhere, blowing dresses and hair and stray papers here and there. Joffrey stood up from the Iron Thrones, trying to shield his eyes from the wind and see what was happening at the same time. Like everyone else, the befuddled look was clearly present even on the boy king's face.

What happened next was even more peculiar. At the origin of the sound, a blue, boxy shape began fading in and out of visibility, phasing into existence like a ghost trying to assume tangible form.

What the Westerosi did not know and were for the most part not even capable of comprehending, was that the unusual sound, the otherworldly wind, and the phasing blue box were actually the observable signs of the fabric of reality itself being rent apart, as a dimensionally transcendental construct began materializing.

When the sound had ceased and the wind had subsumed, what was left in its place was a completely solid and visible blue box. It was about ten feet in height, looked to be made completely of wood, and was painted the bluest of blues Sansa had ever seen. The front seemed to be occupied by two wooden doors, with a generic looking lock and a handle to open it on one side, and a sign that said "Pull To Open" on the other.

Above that was a pair of white six-paneled windows, each one completely opaque and impossible to see into, and above that was a sign that said "Public Police Call Box". Sansa, and many of the other Westorosi, would probably be wondering what exactly a "Public Police Call Box" was if their minds weren't so occupied by the sheer insanity of the situation.

And finally; there was a glass lantern-like bulb at the top that seemed to flicker faintly with a soft yellow glow, completing the image of the impossible object that had suddenly flickered into existence inside the Throne Room and left the king and his court completely unable to speak.

"What's the meaning of this!" cried out the voice of a man, breaking the silence that had befallen the Throne Room. Everyone turned to the new voice, their attention momentarily pried from the intruding blue box. It was Joffrey's own uncle and the Hand of the King, Tyrion Lannister. Also known as the "Imp", or in some circles the "Demon Monkey".

The blonde-haired dwarf daftly strode into the Throne Room, with Bronn his right hand man in tow. Some of the courtiers gave way for the King's Hand as he walked towards the Iron Throne, but not many had to due to the fact that most of them had already done so earlier when the blue box had materialized in the center of the room.

"I come in here, walk into the Throne Room, and what do I find?" began the dwarf, addressing his king of a nephew, "I find a helpless girl being beaten by a knight at the behest of her own fiancé, and the appearance of a strange blue box that I am most certain was not there before. Could you please explain to me what the hell is going on?"

"You can't talk to me like that!" exclaimed Joffrey in anger, throwing a tantrum, "I am the king! And this is not my doing! This blue box has nothing to do with me, it just appeared! It has to be some sort of black magic or sorcery and-…"

"The blue box may not be your doing, and in fact I highly doubt that you are intellectually capable of such a thing," interjected Tyrion, causing Joffrey's features to contort in even more rage at the perceived insult, "but the fact that the lady who is to be your queen is lying here half naked and covered in bruises is undeniably your fault."

"What do you mean my fault? I was punishing her for her brother's crimes! And…and that's not even the important part. That blue box over there," Joffrey rasped irately while pointing at the aforementioned police box, "that box just appeared in _my_ throne room out of nowhere and you're worried about a useless girl! There is something foul involved here! This is some kind of vile witchcraft, and I don't know what it is but it's clearly a threat to me! I will not have it in my throne room!"

The young monarch bent down to grab his crossbow again, before the doors of the blue box suddenly burst open, catching everyone's attention once more. Startled by the sudden occurrence and feeling threatened, Joffrey took his already loaded crossbow in panic and immediately let loose an arrow.

As the two wooden doors of the blue box parted open, Sansa saw a man emerge from the box, only to be greeted immediately by a crossbow bolt travelling at nearly 50 meters per second to the face.

TBC

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	2. The Lord of Time Part II

**A Song of Fire and Ice and Rage**

e7cg13

Disclaimer: I do not own either "Doctor Who" or "Game of Thrones", and I am not making any sort of financial profit from this endeavor.

Summary: A series of short stories, varying in length and completely independent of one another, all centered around the idea of crossing the two settings of "Doctor Who" and "Game of Thrones". Will be based on the TV adaptation of "A Song of Ice and Fire", rather than the books.

Author's Note: This is the second chapter of the short story entitled "The Lord of Time".

_The Lord of Time Part II_

_As the two wooden doors of the blue box parted open, Sansa saw a man emerge from the box, only to be greeted immediately by a crossbow bolt travelling at nearly 50 meters per second to the face._

Then…it stopped.

The arrow stopped suddenly in mid-air, as if halted by an invisible force. Sansa, Joffrey, Tyrion, and everyone else present, even Bronn, all gaped at the display in disbelief as the bolt halted in mid-air and simply plummeted to the ground with a plop. Its momentum had simply vanished, completely violating the laws of physics.

After a long silence, the lanky man whom Joffrey had fired at was the first to compose himself. He straightened a strange piece of cloth around his neck before speaking, "Well, that's hardly the first time I've been greeted by an arrow to the face. Pretty sure it won't be the last either."

"First time one has gotten that close though," continued the man as he absent-mindedly ruffled his own floppy brown hair, "Good thing I had the Tribophysical Waveform Macro-kinetic Extrapolator reinstalled in the TARDIS. Comes in handy. Then again, probably shouldn't have run out like that without checking the environment in the first place. Nah, more fun that way."

Sansa looked at the rambling man in puzzlement, as he bent down to grab the arrow that had plopped onto the ground in front of him. He was dressed in such strange garb, which included some sort of long burgundy coat and the piece of tied cloth around his neck that he had straightened beforehand. Yet the man spoke in perfect Common Tongue, and bore an accent that would not be out of place in Westeros. He was an enigma.

While he was examining Joffrey's crossbow bolt, a short women wearing a red dress walked out from the blue box just behind him. She stopped suddenly in her tracks when she noticed the gaze of the court upon her.

"Umm, Doctor," spoke the young brown haired lady, "is this…Midnight?"

Without even looking back at her, the man replied, "Take a guess."

"Uhh, no?" guessed the girl hesitantly.

"That's the one," answered the man, while he continued to fiddle with Joffrey's crossbow bolt, "Excellent work on this arrow, by the way, which says a lot since I'm not too fond of weapons myself. Or beans. Beans are evil."

Then he tossed the arrow away unceremoniously, having grown bored of it already.

"Who are you?" questioned Joffrey, finally deciding to speak up and address the strange man, "Answer me!"

"Why should I?" replied the man, before turning to his female companion, "So Clara, if this isn't Midnight, where do you think we are?"

The one called "Clara" gave the strange man a searching look, before responding to his question, "Well, ignoring the fact that you've landed us in the wrong location _again_…"

"Hey! For the record, I haven't done that since Vegas,' interjected the man in mock offense, "and I was doing so well too."

"…I would say that, judging by the blonde hobbit and Aragon over there," continued Clara, gesturing towards Tyrion and Bronn, who both looked at each other in confusion, "we've ended up somewhere on Middle Earth. Which is weird because I always thought the _Lord of the Rings_ was just a story, and people can't travel into stories right. Right? Well, it is the TARDIS, and you said all of time and space, so are we in some kind of fictional space-wacey dimension or something…?"

Her rambling was punctuated by the completely serious and somewhat adorable look she then gave him, in clear expectance of an answer. All he could do in response was laugh in her face.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous Clara," said the man after his brief, good natured laughter had subsided, "Tolkien's works aren't real. Now, George R.R. Martin on the other hand…well, that's a tale for another day."

"Did you not hear me?" interjected the boy king again, his patience wearing thin with the only thing having prevented him from snapping earlier was the utter surrealism of the situation, "I am your king, and you will answer me! Tell me who you are!"

"Oh, a king huh? Well, that explains the horribly uncomfortable looking death trap of a throne you've got going on over there. But I don't recall being one of your subjects. If you must know though," said the strange man, an amused expression on his face, "I'm the Doctor, nice to meet you. Well, not really, but there's no need to be rude about it."

"A doctor? You're a…witch-doctor then?" inquired Tyrion, speaking to the peculiar intruder for the first time. He assumed that this man's, this Doctor's, ability to make big blue boxes suddenly manifest in a room out of thin air had to be some sort of witchcraft. He didn't know what else it could be.

"No, not which," replied this "Doctor", with a hint of vexation in his voice, "just the Doctor. Now then, time to see where we really are…"

Sansa was wrong to believe that things could not get any weirder, as she watched the Doctor stick a finger into his mouth. Taking the finger out, he began shifting it this way and that in the air, while looking around as if searching for something

"Let's see: atmospheric composition is approximately 75-80% nitrogen, roughly 21% oxygen, and less than a percent of anything else," stated the Doctor, "Typical of your average, Earth-like planet."

"Shut up…" said Joffrey. Even Sansa could tell he was nearing his boiling point. If the situation was any less weird he probably would have snapped already and asked for someone's head to roll.

Ignoring him, the Doctor gave a short little hop before landing on both feet with a soft thud. "Gravity is within the range of most terrestrial planets."

"…I said I want you to shut up…" repeated Joffrey, his temper rising. The Doctor continued to ignore him. This time he took out a wand-like cylindrical device from his coat pocket that Sansa did not recognize. She wouldn't be surprised if it was a magic wand, though, which would further reinforce the notion that this man was some sort of wizard or sorcerer; a notion that many in the room probably shared with her.

"Judging by the fashion sense and architecture," continued the Doctor as he began waving around the cylindrical device while a green light and a strange whistling noise emanated from the tip, "as well as the metallurgical properties of your guard's armor and weapons, I would say that your civilization is roughly equivalent to Medieval Europe during the Middle Ages, or the Hadrigast of Dom during their fourth civil war."

"…I command you to shut up…!" repeated Joffrey for the third time, his voice now beginning to rise and his features contorting in a sneer of evident irritation.

Of course, this did not bother the Doctor whatsoever as he continued to wave around his "magic wand". Then things got really strange (stranger?) when the Doctor began sniffing the air with his noise like a dog.

"Ah, what's this; the seasonal cycle on this planet is much longer than Earth's. That's odd. Instead of lasting for only a few months, your seasons seem to last for years, decades even. And it seems that," said the Doctor as he finished sniffing, "_winter is coming_."

That's when Joffrey snapped. "I have had it! Ser Meryn, behead this fool now! That will shut him up! Permanently!"

"Yes, your Grace!" replied Meryn, who was clearly happy to receive such an order. Sansa watched as the unscrupulous knight who had beaten her earlier approached the Doctor from behind and drew his sword.

However, at that exact moment the strange man spun around and pointed his wand at Meryn, which somehow caused the guard's blade to go flying out of his hands and embed itself in a nearby wall, almost taking a courtier's head off in the process.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, would be my screwdriver," said the Doctor with a smug smirk, before giving the tip a little blow, "It's sonic-y."

Upon seeing Ser Meryn's disarmament, all of the other swordsmen in the room immediately drew their own blades, in response to the perceived threat. All of them…except for Bronn.

"Idiots, the lot of you…you all have balls for brains, don't ya," said the sellsword, "This man just showed you all that he can disarm a knight with one teeny little flick of his magic wand, and you think you can take him on with your swords."

The other swordsmen, slowly realizing the logic in Bronn's words, began to resheath their blades one by one, although a few hesitated for a bit longer.

The Doctor looked offended, "Oi, it's not a magic wand. There's no such thing as magic. My people removed it from the universe a long, long time ago."

He might as well have been speaking gibberish as far as anyone else in the room was concerned.

"Then again, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic," continued the Doctor with a shrug, "so I wouldn't fault you too much for assuming that my amazing screwdriver was a magic wand. I am pretty magical myself, after all."

Clara rolled her eyes at him, before speaking up, "As much as I love to hear you ramble on and praise yourself, Doctor, I think we have more important things to worry about…"

It wasn't until Clara had said this that Sansa realized she was looking at her. Suddenly, the Stark girl felt a tiny bit self-conscious, or a lot actually. All of the strangeness and excitement had caused her to forget the situation she was in momentarily; specifically, the fact that she was still lying on the floor with a torn dress and visible bruises all over her body.

The Doctor had the decency to look sheepish, "Oh, right, yeah. Sorry, my mistake."

Sansa watched with growing anxiety as the magical, otherworldly man (if he was one) began approaching her slowly. She did not know how to react or how to perceive his approach. She didn't know what he was like (besides the obvious; he was clearly mad), what he wanted, what he was capable of, nothing; he was a complete enigma to her. And that frightened her.

So Sansa did the one thing she was capable of doing in the situation and state of mind she had found herself in: she froze. The fear and apprehension was evident on her face, in her body language, even in her eyes; it would have been visible to anyone with basic observational skills from a mile away.

The Doctor seemed to notice this, and began approaching with more caution. He inched forward even more slowly than before, while holding his arms and hands out in front of him in the universal gesture for "It's okay, we're nice". Fat lot of good it did him or Sansa, as the poor girl was still scared out of her wits.

She continued to remain frozen in place, and it eventually reached a point where her brain grew tired of the increased level of stress and tension. She felt her mind slipping away; regressing more and more inwards as she slowly lost her grip on conscious awareness of the surroundings. Everything grew heavy and hazy and dark and -…

And then it stopped. She was just about to slip into darkness when a feeling of raw shock brought her back from the edge into full awareness. The shock was from the sudden sensation of two strong arms and a warm, soft coat being wrapped around her, and it didn't take her long to realize that it was the Doctor's coat that was now shielding her modesty.

"There now, that's better!" exclaimed the Doctor exuberantly, now sans his coat, "To think, with all of the time I wasted rambling no one even bothered to get you something to cover yourself with. Ridiculous, the lot of you."

Sansa muttered a thank you under her breath, as she held the foreign coat tightly around her body. Turning back towards the Iron Throne, she felt her "angry Joffrey" senses tingling (you tend to develop them if you want to survive in Sansa's situation). Her intuition didn't lie to her, as the face that greeted her was one of outrage.

"How…how dare you? She is betrothed to me!" spluttered the boy king in anger, "You can't…you can't touch her like that! She is to be my quee-…"

"Oh, she's your fiancé, is she?" interjected Clara, hands on her hips as she regarded the young monarch with semi-amused irritation, "What kind of guy beats his fiancé in public?"

Joffrey looked murderous, as he regarded the mysterious woman with bleeding contempt.

"Oh, very very good, Clara," remarked the Doctor with pride and a mad grin on his face, "How'd you manage to work that out?"

"Well," replied Clara, as she began to explain, "it was kind of obvious. I noticed the bruises on her body and the torn dress when we got here, and they both look pretty recent. So either she got beaten up by someone else somewhere else and ran in here immediately to get away, or she was beaten up here in this room, right here, right now…"

"…and it couldn't have been the former," said the Doctor, continuing where Clara left off, "Because we've been here babbling for quite a while yet no one did anything to help her. If she had been attacked elsewhere and ran in here, people would have showed more concern for her."

"Yeah, basically…"

"And you managed to work out the whole thing from just that?"

"No, I saw that guy," replied Clara while point to Ser Meryn Trant, "about to hit her with his sword on the monitor in the TARDIS when we landed, while you were busy raving about how "walking into a situation blind is more fun" instead of making an important environment check that would have gotten you killed if it hadn't been for your fancy magic forcefield-thingy. "

"Oh, right," said the Doctor, as he sheepishly straightened his bowtie again in mild embarrassment.

Turning back towards Joffrey, Clara added, "So, is this really what you do? You get a full-grown knight to beat a helpless girl, who also happens to be your fiancé. You didn't even do it yourself; you got someone else to do your dirty work for you. Now that's low."

In response, Ser Meryn drew his dagger in defense of his liege, "How dare you, girl? No one insults the king in the presence of the King's Guard!"

Clearly, the days when a position on the King's Guard meant anything had long since past. The stupidity of this man was practically tangible.

"Oh, for the love of – she didn't insult him; she was merely stating a fact!" Tyrion cut in, waving his arms around for emphasis, "But I guess you're just incapable of seeing the difference, Meryn, you bumbling half wit. There, that was an insult. See the difference!"

Meryn turned his attention to the dwarf in anger, but immediately forced himself to calm down when he noticed Bronn eying him with deadly amusement, his blade ready to be drawn.

Clara smiled at the blonde dwarf who had defended her, "Hey thanks for that, uhh, blonde…hobbit guy…what was your name again?"

The "blonde hobbit guy" walked up to Clara and brought his hands to his lips in greeting, to Clara's amusement and mirth. "My name is Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King, my lady. And you are…?"

"Clara," she replied, "Clara Oswald."

TBC

A.N. The Tribophysical Waveform Macro-kinetic Extrapolator is actually from the show, in case anyone was wondering if I just pulled that out of my ass or something. Look it up. :)

And don't forget to read and review!


	3. The Lord of Time Part III

**A Song of Fire and Ice and Rage**

e7cg13

Disclaimer: I do not own either "Doctor Who" or "Game of Thrones", and I am not making any sort of financial profit from this endeavor.

Summary: A series of short stories, varying in length and completely independent of one another, all centered around the idea of crossing the two settings of "Doctor Who" and "Game of Thrones". Will be based on the TV adaptation of "A Song of Ice and Fire", rather than the books.

Author's Note: This is the third chapter of the short story entitled "The Lord of Time".

_The Lord of Time Part III_

_Clara smiled at the blonde dwarf who had defended her, "Hey thanks for that, uhh, blonde…hobbit guy…what was your name again?"_

_The "blonde hobbit guy" walked up to Clara and brought his hands to his lips in greeting, to Clara's amusement and mirth. "My name is Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King, my lady. And you are…?"_

_"Clara," she replied, "Clara Oswald."_

The name sounded a tiny bit foreign, but would not be completely out of place in Dorne or the Riverlands, Tyrion thought. Oswald was not a familiar name, however, making a noble house unlikely to be her family. One could not tell at first glance though; hers was a plain beauty, but beauty nonetheless.

Her name was infinitely less bizarre than a man who called himself the Doctor, on the other hand.

"Well then, Lady Clara," replied Tyrion, showing her the respect befitting a high born woman, on the off chance that she was a member of a noble house from some faraway never-heard-of land across the sea, "I would just like to say that it is very nice to meet you, but if I may ask…who are you two?"

Clara gave him a look, before answering, "We already told you. I'm Clara Oswald and that's the Doctor. Oh, and Doctor; is it just me, or do people get like a million times more polite the further you go back in the past. I guess what they say about chivalry being dead really is true."

The Doctor was about to retort, when he remembered how nice Victorian Clara's kids were in comparison to _those_ _little Daleks_ this Clara was babysitting.

He shrugged and spoke, "This may not be the past. Looks like the past, but who knows where and when we really are in relation to Earth? Could be the future, or a parallel universe – haven't been to one of those in a while. Usually something really, really bad is happening when I'm in one of those…anyways…"

The Doctor had a bit of an awkward moment when he realized that everyone in the room was staring at him with dazed looks of confused vexation, even Clara, "I'm rambling again aren't I. Well, don't mind me. Carry on. I'll just shut up now for the time being…"

"Could someone please remove this mad man from my throne room!" ordered Joffrey, still simmering from earlier.

"Joffrey, with all due respect," began Tyrion, addressing the boy king, "shut up!"

"How dare you! You can't -…"

"Oh yes I can! Now shut up, sit still, and be quiet!" Reluctantly, Joffrey calmed himself like a kid after a tantrum (which he basically was) and sat back down on the Iron Throne.

"Don't think I'm happy with this," said the bastard monarch, as he picked up his crossbow again and began fiddling with it on the throne, "I'll let you do this your way for now, Hand of the King, as a gesture of good faith. But if you ever talk to me like that ever again, uncle, I will -…"

"Yes, yes I know," replied Tyrion nonchalantly, "Now as I was saying. Who are you people?"

Clara was about to respond when Tyrion continued, cutting her off, "And I don't mean your names, or what you think passes as a name. But what are you, where do you come from, how exactly are you doing all of this, and what in the world is that big blue box that appeared out of nowhere?"

"Oh, that's easy!" exclaimed the Doctor, before clearing his throat, "Time Lord, Human, Gallifrey, Earth, wibbly wobbly timey wimey, TARDIS. There you go."

"W-what? I'm sorry…?"

"I just answered all your questions, quick as you like. Weren't you paying attention?" clarified the Doctor, "That's the problem with you lot, you never pay attention! But I can tell you this…"

There was a slight pause for dramatic effect.

"…_right now, I am probably the most dangerous man on this entire planet_."

The entire throne room turned to ice as he said that in an ominous, chilling tone. Knights and other armed men readied their blades, unarmed courtiers slowly inched backwards in caution, while Tyrion narrowed his eyes at the Doctor in suspicion. The Doctor returned his gaze with a look of smug confidance; both of these two intelligent individuals refusing to blink.

What broke the silence and staring contest, however, was not a blink but a laugh: the Doctor's laugh.

"Hahaa, gotcha!" said the Doctor, as the semi-serious expression on his face completely broke down into a look of utter amusement, "Had you scared there, didn't I? Truth is though; I am the most dangerous man on the planet, but I'm also completely harmless!"

The oxymoron was apparent to anyone with at least half a brain, plus Joffrey.

"How – that makes absolutely no sense," remarked the boy king, "How can you be dangerous and harmless at the same time?"

"Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense. You're just not keeping up," the Doctor retorted, "I am dangerous, yes, but I'm harmless because I'm currently of no threat to you. Let's keep it that way, shall we."

A seething glare from Joffrey was the only indication that he had recognized the Doctor's obvious taunt. To be honest, Tyrion thought he was being rather well behaved by his standards, far more than he had expected of the young ruler.

"Now then; enough about me!" continued the Doctor exuberantly as he approached the Hand of the King, "What exactly are you, Tyrion Lannister?"

"W-wait, you still haven't adequately explained yourse -…" began Tyrion before he was interrupted by the Time Lord waving his magic wand, or "sonic screwedriver", in the dwarf's face.

"Are you an imp, or a hobbit, or maybe a beardless dwarf," rambled the Doctor before he checked the readings on his screwdriver, "Oh, you are a dwarf!"

Clara looked radiant at the revelation, "See, I told you we landed in _Lord of the Ri_-…"

"No, not that kind of dwarf!" interjected the Doctor, "He's completely human, but seems to have been born with achondroplasia. Fancy word, isn't it…?"

Achondroplasia was a common cause of dwarfism. Tyrion did not know the word or its meaning, but he was smart enough to infer what the Doctor was speaking of.

"Yes yes, I'm aware of my deformity," replied the Halfman with an irritated tone, "I've had it since birth, and I think I would have noticed by now."

The Doctor had the tact to look apologetic, before sheepishly glancing at Clara, "Sorry, was I being rude again. Don't mean to, but I just have a habit of it sometimes. Especially in my last body; rude and not ginger I used to call myself. And I'm still rude. And still not ginger!"

By now Joffrey had enough of the rambling. "I've had enough of your rambling, Doctor! Ser Meryn, please escort my lovely bride-to-be. Take her to her quarters. I'll deal with her later, once I've taken care of these intruders."

Sansa, who was still lying on the floor covered by the Doctor's coat, had been removed from the spotlight during all of the eccentricities. But now Joffrey had brought attention back to her. She gave a tiny, involuntary squeak in panic, as she sensed Meryn approaching her from the side in the corner of her peripheral vision.

But then suddenly the Doctor ran in between her and Meryn, brandishing his sonic screwdriver at the knight. Ser Meryn snarled at him before drawing his dagger, but the Doctor quickly knocked it out of his hand using vibrations from his sonic. This left the knight unarmed.

Joffrey took the opportunity of the Doctor's occupation with Meryn to attack Clara, firing a bolt from his now pumped and loaded crossbow at her. The Doctor's companion screamed in panic, before being hit by an immediate feeling of relief, as the projectile bounced harmlessly off the forcefield generated by the TARDIS's Tribophysical Waveform Macro-Kinetic Extrapolator.

Noticing this, the Doctor's face immediately morphed into one of pure rage.

"You've just made a very, very, very big mistake, firing at Clara like that," uttered the Doctor chillingly, as he turned to face Joffrey while pointing his screwdriver at him, "I told you I was dangerous, but not a threat to you at the moment. I also told you to keep it that way. _You failed_."

The Doctor and Joffrey held their intense gazes for a prolonged moment, daring each other to falter. Of course, the boy king's will was the first to acquiesce, as he wilted within the view of the Doctor's cold and powerful eyes. He gave up when he realized that none of his guards seemed to be jumping to his defense (most of them were too scared of the Doctor's "witchcraft" to do so), and unceremoniously plopped back down to the throne.

The Doctor glared at the royal bastard for a bit longer, before withdrawing his gaze and lowering his screwdriver. He turned to Sansa and made his way to her. She was still lying on the floor, so he kneeled down and reassuringly placed his hands around her shoulders.

"What is your name?" asked the Doctor in the most comforting voice he could muster.

The young lady froze for a moment, unsure of what to say, before finally finding her voice, "I-I am…my name is Sansa, my lord. Of House Stark."

The time traveler gave her a charismatic smile, "It's very nice to meet you then, Sansa of House Stark. May I ask you a question?"

Sansa looked hesitant, before giving him a reluctant nod of approval. Joffrey watched the proceedings with growing irritation, but now knew better than to antagonize the Doctor.

The Doctor smiled another charming smile, before bringing his mouth near her ear so he could whisper softly, "I know he beat you today, in front of all these people. I could barely imagine what he does to you in private. So tell me, Sansa Stark…would you like an escape from this "engagement" of yours?"

Sansa's eyes widened at his inquiry. She very nearly blurted out a yes in excitement, but the unintentional and involuntary conditioning she had received during her time with Joffrey at King's Landing restrained her tongue.

She looked around nervously at the courtiers, at the knights, then back towards Joffrey and the Iron Throne. He sneered back, prompting her to avert her gaze and look shyly at the ground. After a brief moment, she looked back up at the Doctor.

It was with cold, dead eyes and a lifeless expression that she gave him her answer, "Of course not, my lord. Why would I? King Joffrey is my one true love, and I am to be his loyal queen. I will stay by his side forever."

With an answer like that, the Doctor could not help but feel pity. Pity for this young, hapless lady and what he could guess was her predicament. There was a silence in which the man from Gallifrey simply regarded the Stark girl with a sense of sadness and disappointment, wondering what exactly was he going to do with her.

Then he made his decision.

"Alright-y then, you seem to have made up your mind! No need to bother you lot any further, I'll just be on my way," announced the Doctor suddenly as he got up and began walking towards the TARDIS, leaving a bewildered Sansa still lying on the floor.

The sudden change of demeanor had everyone in the room taken aback, most of all Clara. The Doctor's companion spluttered a bit, completely astonished as she had never seen the Doctor abandon someone in need.

"Oi, Doctor, where the hell are you going?" she questioned in a demanding, hands-on-hip tone, "Are you really just going to leave the poor girl here like this? And we've only just got here!"

The Doctor turned to her, shrugged, and said "That's exactly what I'm going to do," before opening the doors to the TARDIS. "Oh, and if you keep dallying Clara, I will take the TARDIS and leave you behind with all these people."

Clara found herself at a loss for words, never having seen the Doctor act this cruel. She eventually acquiesced, at least for the time being, giving an indignant huff before following the Doctor to the TARDIS.

Joffrey was none too pleased with the new developments. Although he did want the intruders removed from the room, he wanted it to be done by his will, with them in chains and ready to be sent to the worst dungeon in all of the seven kingdoms for their slight against him. Not at their own discretion, departing from the scene in their magical appearing blue box.

"Wait, who said you two could go! You can't just leave like that!" Joffrey's rant fell on deaf ears as Clara shut the TARDIS doors behind her, cutting themselves off from the outside world.

"Ser Meryn, guards, someone, go and stop them! Get them out of that stupid box, dead or alive, because I am not through with them! They will pay dearly for making a fool out of me…"

Tyrion, disregarding his nephew's biteless bark, moved to make sure Sansa was okay, not having forgotten her in the predicament. The dwarf approached her with caution, not wanting to scare the already nerve-wracked adolescent, before he noticed the coat still wrapped around her. Then he knew.

* * *

"This isn't you."

The Doctor ignored Clara's disapproving remark, as he continued fiddling with the TARDIS controls.

"This is not like you at all, Doctor," repeated Clara, with her arms crossed and a disappointed look on her face.

This time the Doctor answered, "If you don't think this is me than you don't know me very well, now do you, Clara Oswald."

"I guess not, because my impression of the doctor who I thought I knew," replied Clara, "was that of a kind and caring man who wouldn't just abandon a helpless girl like that."

The Doctor remained silent momentarily, as he pulled two familiar blue switch levers. Then he responded, "Clara; Sansa is just…one girl of many. Think of all the abused girlfriends and fiancés and wives and daughters and sisters and other women and men as well throughout all of time and space. I can't save them all. I can't even begin to come close. Why should Sansa being a noble lady and the abused fiancé of a vicious idiot king mean giving her special treatment?"

From outside, the two time travelers could hear Jofrey's men trying to hack their way into the TARDIS. Futilely, of course; not even the assembled hordes of Genghis Khan could get through those doors after all. Ignoring them, Clara made her way next to the Doctor and looked him straight in the eyes.

"You don't actually believe that crap, do you?" asked Clara with a knowing gaze and smile.

The Doctor smiled back and said, "Not at all. Now then, Clara Oswald, are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

The Doctor's grin only grew wider, as he broke their held gaze and began racing around the central console. The 1200 year old Time Lord began pressing buttons and pulling levers chaotically as he readied the TARDIS for flight.

"Ready to save Lady Sansa of House Stark, of course!" answered the Doctor exuberantly, "And we're going to do it the way we do best!"

Clara, feeling giddy having caught the Doctor's sudden, contagious aura of energy and excitement, began trailing her favorite alien in his dance around the central console. "And in what way would that be?" she asked with thinly veiled anticipation. The Doctor stopped and turned around to look at her, so he could answer her question.

"The fun way; we're going to her past. While you were busy scolding me, I took the liberty of having the TARDIS scan this," said the Doctor as he pulled out a lock of auburn hair, "I swiped it off Sansa when she wasn't looking. From this sample I should be able to extrapolate her _biodata_."

"Biodata?"

"Biodata is just some more complicated sciency wiency stuff. It's sort of like temporal DNA. That's why I could get it from just a piece of her hair. Biodata contains information on an individual's history and personal timeline. Very potent stuff, but I'm just using it to track the major points of divergence in her time stream. These major points are when a person's life can swing in one direction or another, and usually involve important events in their life."

Clara nodded, having understood at least the gist of what he had said, "So we're going to travel back to these points in Sansa's life and change them, that way she never ends up in this predicament?"

The Doctor shook his head, "No. Unfortunately, doing that would lead to a paradox. From their reaction to us, this should be the very first time we've appeared in Sansa's personal time stream to her knowledge. Going back and actively changing things would be almost as bad as doubling back in our own personal time streams. Instead, we're just going back for some information and a general background, that way we can better help Sansa when we come back for her."

"Well then, what are you waiting for, bowtie boy?" inquired Clara eagerly.

The Doctor inputted a few commands into a touch screen console, before answering, "Just setting up the old girl for flight. I'm gonna put her in stealth mode. Don't do that often, but there's a time and place for everything. We can't be seen by Sansa while we're gathering information or it will violate the timeline."

"Stealth mode? There's a stealth mode?"

"Of course there's a stealth mode!" the Time Lord replied, "But invisible is boring. Blue is so much cooler. I'm also putting her in silent mode. I can make it so that it doesn't make that wonderful sound it usually does when taking off or landing. Reluctantly, of course."

Clara's interest was piqued, "Why don't you do this more often, Doctor? Wait, let me guess. It's boring?"

"Basically," he remarked, before flipping a switch, "And there we go. Stealth mode is engaged, the blue "boringers" are in play, and now the TARDIS is completely silent, invisible, and terribly dull. Time to find out who you are, Sansa Stark."

Clara was absolutely capricious, keen to help the poor girl she had sympathized with. She turned to the Doctor and said, with tongue-in-cheek, his own catchphrase stolen for her purposes, "Geronimo?"

"Geronimo!" the Doctor reiterated before pulling the engine release lever, which initiated the TARDIS's now-silent dematerialization.

"Oh, and by the way," continued the Doctor, while turning to Clara with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Did you really think I would leave my coat behind if we were just going to leave her like this?"

TBC

A.N. I always find it difficult writing Joffrey. I don't know whether to make him completely evil, spoiled, bratty, and one dimensional, or to temper his negative traits with some depth and small semblances of intelligence.

Anyways, next chapter will be the last part in this first short story, and it will most likely be the longest section. Then I'll start a new short. However, for future reference, even if I end a short story, I can always continue it in the future if it makes sense to do so and enough fans desire for a specific story to be continued.


	4. The Lord of Time Part IV

**A Song of Fire and Ice and Rage**

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Disclaimer: I do not own either "Doctor Who" or "Game of Thrones", and I am not making any sort of financial profit from this endeavor.

Summary: A series of short stories, varying in length and completely independent of one another, all centered around the idea of crossing the two settings of "Doctor Who" and "Game of Thrones". Will be based on the TV adaptation of "A Song of Ice and Fire", rather than the books.

Author's Note: This is the last chapter of the short story entitled "The Lord of Time". My deepest apologies for the long delay.

_The Lord of Time Part IV_

When the Doctor and his mysterious blue box had vanished again, just as quickly and in the very same manner it had appeared, the throne room was left in a state of tangible silence.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the vast majority of the room's current inhabitants believed themselves to be in a dream. Some were even discreetly pinching themselves to confirm said suspicion, but alas, this was reality.

Anyone who would have walked into the room at that point, however, would not have found anything strange, besides the utterly lost looks on everyone's faces. The Doctor and his companion had left without leaving a single trace, with the sole exception of the Doctor's coat left behind on Sansa's shoulders.

Sansa herself was being led out of the throne room by Tyrion, who tugged at her by the hand. She was far too in a daze to resist or question, after her bizarre encounter with the mysterious Doctor.

Tyrion, on the other hand, was far more composed; probably the most composed individual in the entire room at the moment (with the exception of Bronn, who had returned to being as apathetic and laid back as usual, as if nothing had even happened, and was leisurely following Tyrion's lead), which he took advantage of to try and sneak Sansa out of the room as quickly as possible.

He knew that, once Joffrey had recovered from the initial shock of the encounter, his rage would burn from the humiliation of the incident and he would most likely take his frustrations out on his hapless fiancé. There was no telling what he would do in the first few moments while his anger simmered and he was at his most sadistic, so Tyrion made it his plan to sweep the poor Stark girl out of the immediate line of fire.

He had a hunch that the Doctor would come back, though. He had left his coat behind with Sansa. Although it wouldn't be surprising if he had simply forgotten it and the coat being left behind held no real, deeper meaning, Tyrion could tell from what he knew of the man that assuming the opposite was just as likely.

But he didn't know when and where the Doctor planned to return, so it was better to be safe than sorry.

It came much, much sooner than Tyrion had expected. Just as they were about to reach the main doors of the throne room, the otherworldly noise from earlier returned in full force.

_vworp vworp vworp_

* * *

The journey through Sansa's life, or at least the most significant moments of it, was like a vortex of turbulent emotions. Every single time the TARDIS materialized in a new place and time, both silent and invisible to prevent it from being spotted, the scene that unfolded on the observation monitor made Clara experience a whole new range of feeling.

Some scenes made her cry. Others made her rage. Some filled her with feelings of disappointment, while others gave her shame. The young Lady Sansa of House Stark led a tragic life.

Of course, it wasn't always like that for her. The first dozen or so years were peaceful, almost uneventful ones living as the oldest daughter of the noble and respected Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. The biggest things she had to worry about during those times were her occasional spouts with her little sister Arya (who was very different from Sansa in many ways), who she wanted to eventually marry, what to wear, lessons in being a lady, and other such issues a developing girl of her status had to face.

The fact that it had been this way for the vast majority of her life made it all the more tragic when the dark times came, and she was ripped from her tranquil, idyllic life in Winterfell and catapulted into a precarious, nightmarish experience in King's Landing, where every waking moment was spent fearing for her own life and what a self-centered and deranged boy king would do to her next.

The events that led to Sansa's current predicament fell like a chain of dominoes as her life came crashing down. Clara and the Doctor watched many of these important scenes, but a few stood out.

They saw where it all began, the tipping point in Sansa's life. Joffrey's father and predecessor, King Robert Baratheon, had led an entourage to Sansa's childhood home of Winterfell to ask her father Ned Stark to be his new Hand, after the previous one had died.

That was when she had first met Joffrey, only a prince at the time, and was instantly smitten. When the young and still innocent girl had later learned that she was to be betrothed to him in an arrange marriage, Sansa was ecstatic, completely unaware of the grief her future husband would bring upon her.

Next, they saw the first glimpse of darkness, involving a little incident on the road to King's Landing between Joffrey, Arya, and a butcher's boy, which ended in the death of the boy and Lady, Sansa's dire wolf. Later on, they witnessed Joffrey apologize to Sansa in an uncharacteristic bout of affection, promising to love her and never bring harm to her ever again.

That scene might have been wonderful for Sansa when she had been there, but to Clara and the Doctor it was absolutely bittersweet, knowing that the future monarch would never keep his promise.

The two time travelers sailed through the ages, unraveling the continuum of Sansa's recent history as they got closer and closer to the present day. They watched in an episodic manner as the peace in King's Landing collapsed, and everything was plunged into chaos. It started with the death of the late King Robert, the accidental result of an unfortunate hunting trip, and ended with Ned Stark on death row and Joffrey on the throne.

That's when everything went to hell.

Sansa pleaded for her father's life, hoping to appeal to her fiancé. It seemed to work as Joffrey, appearing to be merciful for once, granted her request for leniency.

But at the very last minute, Joffrey crushed all sentiments of hope when he had Lord Eddard Stark beheaded in public anyways, in front of Sansa's very eyes. To make matters worse, the vicious bastard took her aside afterwards and forced her to look at her father's disembodied head. The gruesome scene almost drove Sansa to suicide, in the hope that she could take her monstrous fiancé with her.

But in the end, she didn't, and what came after that was a life of torment enduring Joffrey's abuse and being utterly powerless to stop it.

At the end of it all, when they had finally caught up to the present time, Clara had only five words to say, "Doctor, Joffrey…is a monster."

The Time Lord looked away from the observation monitor, just for a second, to give his companion the oldest, saddest look she had ever seen. "I know, I know," he said.

The look on Clara's face was a look of naivety, youth, and innocence that was disgusted and horrified by its first contact with the ugliness of the world, as opposed to the Doctor's look; an ancient one with eyes that had gazed upon this ugliness many times in the past but was still disappointed every single time.

"Doctor, we have to…we need to stop Joffrey," said Clara Oswald with a determined tone, "A guy like him should never be king. Can't we…can't we get rid of him, somehow, I don't know."

The Doctor shook his head, "I'm sorry Clara, but, if I could just "get rid of" every single tyrannical, idiotic king I had ever met in the history of universe, I would have considerably more blood on my hands than I already do. And that's saying a lot. I'm not even considering the potential temporal repercussions from removing Joffers from the timeline, which I have yet to look into."

"But-…"

"Look," interjected the alien, "if it makes you feel better Clara, in my experience people like him…always get their comeuppance in the end. The universe isn't always cruel."

Clara's face made that tiny little expression where one want to say something, but just as they're about to say it they realize at the last minute how stupid it is. Then they hesitate and their face backtracks a bit as they try to think of something else, but there really isn't anything left to say. Defeated, Clara settles for a frustrated pouting look.

"Well, we could at least…humiliate him in front of all his subjects, or something?"

The Doctor smirked and said, "Sounds like a plan," before completing a new set of coordinates and pulling the ignition release lever, sending the TARDIS flying back into the present day. This time, the stealth features were removed.

There was no need for subtlety this time. They were going to put on a show.

_vworp vworp vworp_

* * *

Panic erupted once more in the throne room, as the magical box that had shattered the court atmosphere previously now returned. Its unforgettable blue and wooden exterior began fading into view, slowly materializing as it weaved through space and collapsed dimensions.

Coincidentally, or possibly an act of intelligent design on the part of the TARDIS, the dimensionally transcendent vessel had chosen to rematerialize on the exact spot where Tyrion and Sansa were standing just as the TARDIS's landing had begun. Joffrey blanched as he slowly realized what was happening.

"Guards, guards, do something!" ordered the young monarch, while the Doctor's ship was materializing around the Stark girl and the King's Hand, "T-they're trying to kidnap my queen and my uncle!"

But it was already too late. By the time Sandor Clegane, the Hound, had responded to the king's command and made a dash for the TARDIS, it had already fully materialized around Sansa and Tyrion. They were virtually unreachable now from the outside world, as no army or weapon in all of Westeros could break through those blue, wooden doors.

* * *

In contrast to Joffrey's outside perspective of what had happened, Tyrion and Sansa's view of things was much more…drastic. Their surroundings seemed to melt away as the landing space-time ship enveloped them within its interior dimension.

The polished marble floor, the ornate slab pillars, and the grey bricked regal walls of the throne room…they all vanished and were peeled away, like layers of an onion, only to be replaced by new surroundings that slowly became more and more tangible.

What replaced them was something unfathomable. Sansa had never seen anything like it in her entire life. Not even her wildest dreams and the most outrageous fantasies her imagination had ever cooked up could have adequately prepared her for the impossibility of these new surroundings that she had been spirited into as if by magic.

The room they were in was circular, which was the first thing she had noticed upon surveying her new surroundings with a perpetually awestruck expression on her face. It was a large room, not as large as Joffrey's throne room of course, but larger than your typical room. The lighting was dark, and everything seemed to be cast in a deep, cold azure glow.

Tyrion, who was still at her side having been spirited off along with Sansa, was similarly captivated but still capable of approaching his new situation with a calm, analytical approach. He noticed the hexagonal dais in the center of the room, which seemed to have a glass column rising from it up to a rotating, tiered structure attached to the ceiling, as well as the many strange contraptions littering its six surfaces.

The floor they were standing on was a sleek, polished, marble floor of metallic grey. Looking off to the side brought his attention to another level beneath the one they were on, and further beyond the central console there was a set of stairs that appeared to lead to another room.

"Oh good, you're already here," said a voice, startling both Tyrion and Sansa who had been far too absorbed in the surroundings to notice the two other individuals in the room, "That saves us the trouble of fetching you ourselves."

"D-doctor?" inquired Tyrion when he finally recognized the man working the console as being the "witch doctor" from earlier. He was still dressed in the same clothes sans his coat, which consisted of a nice dress shirt, a grey waist coat, and of course his trademark bowtie.

"The one and only!" replied the Doctor with a flamboyant wave. At his side was Clara Oswin Oswald, who gave their guests her own cordial greeting.

"Hi there."

The two Westerosie nobles stared at their two "kidnappers" incredulously, hesitant to speak up or say anything more in the bizarre situation they had found themselves. It was Sansa, surprisingly, who found the courage to speak up.

"Whe-where are we, what is this place, w-what exactly is going on here?" the poor girl asked, desperate to find answers. Tyrion found himself asking the very same questions in his head. He was just as lost and confused as the Stark girl; a new and unusual sensation for the clever and cunning dwarf, but one that he had experienced many times that day thanks to the Doctor.

Before the Doctor could provide an explanation, however, his brown haired companion beat him to the punch, "You're in the Doctor's ship, the TARDIS. Stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space; it's basically a bigger-on-the-inside, fancy shmancy space-time ship that can travel anywhere and anywhen in the universe."

"Oi, Clara! That's my job; I'm supposed to be Mr. Exposition," complained Clara's alien friend with an irritated tone. Clara promptly blew him a raspberry in mocking response.

Unfortunately, Clara's straightforward and concise piece of exposition only served to confuse the two even more. In hindsight it should not have been a surprise that the explanation had gone completely over their heads. Any attempt to explain the nuances of dimensions and Time Lord technology to individuals who were accustomed to medieval level society was a futile effort.

"I-I beg your pardon, but, did you say this was a ship?" asked Tyrion again for emphasis, "And that it can travel anywhere and "anywhen" in the universe. Wha-what does that even mean? And how can this be a ship, it looks nothing like one!"

The Doctor sighed, "See Clara, this is why you leave the exposition to the professionals."

Clara rolled her eyes at him in response.

"I've been explaining godlike technology to the less advance for over a thousand years, watch and learn Clara," continued the Doctor, before he turned to face Tyrion and Sansa again, "In lieu of a better method of explaining all of this to you two, I only have this to say: it's all magic."

"Wha-…?"

"There's an entire world in here!" exclaimed the Doctor, as he stretched out his arms and spun around in an overly dramatic matter, "And sometimes it can make people's brain hurt just thinking about it. So, if that ever happens to you, just think, all of this is magic."

"Magic, huh?" remarked Tyrion skeptically.

"Yes, magic. Well, not exactly, in fact it's not magic at all," the Doctor contradicted himself, raising a few amused eye brows, "But I'm not confidant in my ability to accurately explain dimensionally transcendental engineering to folks from a civilization that hasn't even mastered indoor plumbing yet, so let's just call it magic!"

Tyrion had this strange feeling that the Doctor was subtly insulting their intelligence.

"Doctor," whispered Clara as she quietly addressed the aforementioned Time Lord, "I thought you hated people calling your gadgets magic?"

"I do, but it's necessary this time unless you want to waste a few hours lecturing these two about science far beyond their comprehensions, at the end of which I will probably end up drawing diagrams with straws," the Doctor whispered back, "Now shush!"

Turning back to his guests while pretending that private exchange had never happened, the Doctor said, "So! We're all good on the magic part, right? Basically, a wizard did it. We can even go as far as saying that I'm the wizard. Huh, I like that: "the Wizard". Probably the title I would have taken if Gallifrey had been a society of magic rather than science. Oh, the possibilities!"

By now Clara had been with the Doctor long enough to know that he was about to go off on a long, nonsensical rant. To save everyone the trouble, the Gallifreyan's human companion gave a short, muffled cough to shut him up. It worked, and so the Doctor gave a quick apology under his breath and sheepishly adjusted his bowtie.

Even with the fake magic explanation, Tyrion was still having a difficult time wrapping his head around the situation, "So, basically, what you are saying is that we're in some sort of magical ship that can go anywhere…"

"And anywhen," the Doctor chimed in.

"…and "anywhen", whatever that means. And that you're a wizard. Considering the events that have transpired today with your arrival in the throne room, I don't see a reason to doubt your claims."

The Doctor smiled. He figured they would buy his magic explanation. According to the brief research he conducted on Westeros while Clara and he were viewing Sansa's life, the Westerosi had numerous encounters with what they believed was magic in the past. These Targeryens and their dragons were really something he needed to look into.

"But wait, if he's a wizard, why does he call himself the Doctor?" asked Sansa, who was probably the most befuddled individual in the room.

"He's a witch-doctor, perhaps," remarked Tyrion, "Although a witch-doctor and a wizard aren't really the same thing."

"Oi, for the last time, it's just the Doctor!" exclaimed the Time Lord in an aggravated voice, "Not "Doctor Who", "Which Doctor", or whatever else you people will come up with. Just, the Doctor. And furthermore-…!"

A second muffled coughed from Clara prevented the outbreak of another long and tedious rant from the good Doctor, to the benefit of all who were present.

"Well, anyways," continued the Doctor while impulsively straightening his bowtie again, "I'm sure you have another question for me."

"Yes," replied the short Lannister, "Why the hell are we here? For what reason have you taken us to this magical ship of yours, and what exactly do you plan to do with us? You don't seem like the kind to kidnap someone against their will without a good reason."

Sansa was also curious about their predicament. She couldn't detect any malice from the Doctor or his companion, but her recent experiences have taught her not to trust anyone, even those who seem benevolent at first. _Especially_ those people.

There was a pause. "Well?" said Tyrion, repeating the question.

"To be honest," the Doctor began, "I just want my coat back."

The Doctor's answer left Tyrion completely floored, "I-I beg your-…w-what?"

"I left my coat behind, so I came back to pick it up," said the Doctor repeating himself. Clara gave him a discreet look that basically said "what the hell are you doing", but the Doctor waived her off with a quick gesture. He knew what he was doing.

"I was under the impression that you had left your coat behind on purpose" said Tyrion, "because you always meant to return for it."

The Doctor smiled and lied, "Now why would I want to do that?"

The Lannister lord narrowed his eyes at the Doctor in suspicion; his curiosity was peaked. "I had this feeling that a man like you would immediately recognize the situation Lady Sansa is in. I also had another feeling; that a man like you would want to do something about it."

"Well, sometimes gut feelings can be wrong," the Doctor shrugged.

Sansa was still confused, but this time for a different reason. She turned to the imp, "W-what were you talking about, Lord Tyrion? What did you mean by saying that you had a feeling that the Doctor could do something about the situation I'm in? What situation, I'm perfectly fine. I'm very happy at-…"

"Sansa!" exclaimed Tyrion, cutting her off, "We're inside a magical ship belonging to a wizard who calls himself the Doctor, there's no point anymore in trying to fool everyone with absolutely transparent lies that fail to fool anyone but yourself, and even then I'm not entirely sure it's working."

"B-but I…"

"Sansa," Clara chimed in, "there's no use hiding it. We know what you're going through right now. We know what Joffrey has done to you."

"How do yo-…?" began Sansa, before being interrupted by the Doctor.

"We'll explain that bit later. Firstly, what exactly were you expecting us to do when you realized my coat was left behind?"

"Well, there were two major possibility I had thought of when I believed your coat was left behind intentionally," explained Tyrion, "You would either depose of Joffrey in some manner, to stop him from bringing further harm to Sansa. Or you would spirit Sansa away somehow in your magically appearing and disappearing box."

Clara looked to the Doctor, wondering what he was going to do next. She had no idea where he was going with this, but she trusted him. She could trust him with her life, and she could definitely trust him with this.

"Well, that does sound like something I would do," the alien remarked, "The spiriting away Sansa part, not the deposing of Joffers part, that is. Tell me Sansa, what do you think about all this?"

The classic deer-in-the-headlights expression made its way onto Sansa's face. "M-me?" she asked while subconsciously pointing to herself.

"Of course you," said the Doctor in response, "It's your life."

"W-wait, are you saying that you're actually consideri-…" began Tyrion, before being cut off.

"Hush now," the Doctor shushed Tyrion, "let the lady speak!"

"I-I don't…I don't know what to say," stuttered Sansa, "Would you r-really offer to take me away from King's Landing?"

"Of course dear," replied Clara, speaking for the two of them, "I don't see why it would be a problem, right Doctor?"

The Doctor nodded, "Trust me, there's more than enough room for you with us."

Clara was reluctant. On one hand, she truly from the very bottom of her heart wanted to escape the situation she was in. She didn't know how long it would be before this life of constant danger, kowtowing to a vicious idiot king, and slandering and betraying her own family just to survive would finally break her, if it hadn't already.

On the other hand, she wasn't the same naïve girl who would rush into a situation just because it seemed like the right thing to do at first. These people seemed nice, but given the mystery surrounding them, especially the Doctor, it was best to ere with caution. Sansa believed that there had to be some sort of catch to them offering to help her. No one was that nice, right?

"P-Please allow me to discuss this with Lord Tyrion," said the young noble lady after some thought, "In private if that's alright."

"Of course," the Doctor replied, "this is a big decision to make; one that will absolutely change your life. Take all the time you want."

With an exaggerated turn and about face, the Doctor departed from the scene, giving a little "toodalooh" in passing. Clara followed him out of the console room, up the stairs, and into the hallway, leaving Tyrion and Sansa in the console room alone together.

Before they could say or do anything, however, there was a shout of "And don't touch anything!" from the hallway. No need to tell them that, Sansa thought as she stared bug eyed at the mind boggling assortment of gadgets and doohickeys littering the central console.

"Lord Tyrion," Sansa began, drawing the Lannister's attention, "What…what should I do?"

The imp shrugged in response. "Do whatever you want, Sansa. The decision is up to you, not I."

Sansa laughed uncharacteristically, "To be honest, my lord, as the hand of the King and a Lannister I was at least expecting you to be opposed to all this."

"Why would I be? I'm Joffrey's hand, not his mouthpiece. I don't agree with every decision he makes," Tyrion replied, "Come to think of it, I've never agreed with any decision that idiot has ever made. Most of all you."

"Me?" asked Sansa incredulously.

"I must confess, Lady Sansa that the way Joffrey treated you has never sat well with me. In fact, I've been meaning for quite some time to ask you if you would like to put an end to the engagement."

Sansa smiled at the short nobleman, glad to have found at least one member of the court who wasn't completely malicious, "That's very kind of you, Lord Tyrion. I didn't think you would support me if I decided to go along with the Doctor."

"Are you though?" asked the dwarf.

"I'm…I'm not sure yet," Sansa replied, "I want to, but...I don't fully trust the Doctor or his companion. There…has to be some kind of catch, right? I've learned a lot from court, from King's Landing, and from Joffrey. And it's taught me that people always do things for a reason."

Tyrion was saddened by Sansa's answer. The destruction of innocence always did. "You know, Sansa, not everyone is like a royal courtier. Not everyone is like Joffrey. Most people aren't, actually. The Doctor…seems trustworthy. He doesn't seem like the type of man to have a devious agenda."

"And besides," continued Tyrion, "What's there left for you here in King's Landing. What's your alternative; a life of sorrow and fear? It may be a gamble, but, I think it's a gamble with good odds. If what the Doctor is saying is true, and I have no reason to doubt him considering the stunts he's pulled, he could take you away from Joffrey. He could even take you home."

Sansa's eyes widened at the prospect. The thought of home, of Winterfell and her family, was something light years away. And if he could be believed, the Doctor could offer that possibility in a heartbeat. She really needed to think about this.

Meanwhile, Clara and the Doctor were waiting in the TARDIS's hallway.

"So, why didn't you tell them that you left the coat behind on purpose?"

For awhile the Doctor didn't answer Clara's inquiry, so she thought that was it. Then, however, he said, "Psychological maneuvering."

Clara's brow rose, "Psychological…maneuvering?"

"Yes, of course!" the Doctor replied, as if the answer was obvious, "You don't just go up to someone and say "hey, I have a magical space-time ship and I can take you away from this godforsaken place you're in, just hop in". You need to be more…subtle."

Clara laughed, "You, subtle? Oh please."

"Oi! I can be subtle if I want," the Doctor protested, "Anyways, as I was saying; you need a bit of subtlety. Think about why I left my coat behind, Clara. Just think about it."

"Because we were coming back, right?"

"Yes. But there's more to it than that," the Time Lord explained, "Would it make a difference whether I left it behind or not? We were coming back either way. Why did I really leave my coat behind?"

Realization started to dawn within Clara's human mind, "You…you wanted them to know you were coming back, didn't you?"

"Bingo, we have a winner!" he exclaimed, "You see, a smart bloke like that Tyrion would see the coat I left behind and think "he might have left that behind for a reason, maybe he's coming back". An idea is planted in his mind; the idea that we were planning to return and save Sansa."

"Then," continued the Doctor with his explanation, "When we do come back and pretend it was all just a mistake and there was no hidden meaning to leaving my coat behind, he's stunned and he questions himself. Then he questions us, bringing up the incepted idea, which allows us to learn their opinion on the manner. Not only that, but it transforms the idea of taking Sansa away into an idea brought up by them, rather than one proposed by us."

"Doctor, you," said Clara in awe, "You really are too clever for your own good, aren't you?"

The Doctor smirked and looked smug, "Well, what can I say? I'm the Doctor." Clara gave the alien a playful jab to the shoulder, in response to his antics. They both shared a laugh, before deciding that it was time to rejoin Sansa and Tyrion in the console room. They had given her some time to think. Now it was time to decide.

When Clara and the Doctor returned to the console room, their two guests looked resolute. It seems that the time they gave them had not gone to waste.

"Doctor," said Sansa with confidence, addressing the millennium old time traveler, "I want you…to take me home. Take me back to Winterfell."

* * *

It was to a chaotic and haphazard scene that Lord Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King, returned to his royal nephew's throne room. Knights and guards were scattering about, Joffrey was giving ineffectual orders, and all the unarmed courtiers and guests seemed to have vanished in the time he was gone.

"I want you all to search everywhere! Don't leave a single stone in King's Landing unturned!" Joffrey barked, his face full of unbridled rage, "I want my uncle and Sansa found, and I don't care to what lengths it takes to find them! And if you absolutely cannot find them here in King's Landing, then search the surrounding countryside, send out scouting parties, whatever!"

"I-I beg your pardon, sire," stuttered Grand Maestre Pycelle, as he struggled to draw the irate king's attention, "But I suggest checking the royal archives on any information on this "Doctor" and his blue box. We have no idea what we're dealing with here. Considering the nature of their disappearance, Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa could be anywhere now."

The young monarch turned to his advisor and began chewing him out in a fit of frustration, "You think I don't know that, old man! I already sent people to search the archives for information over half an hour ago!"

"M-my apologies, King Joffrey, I-I-…"

"Looking for someone, Joffrey?" Tyrion chimed in. While he enjoyed the old fool getting chewed out as much as the next man, he believed it was time to make his presence known.

The noble dwarf calmly strided towards the Iron Throne, completely unaware of the scene he was making. All of the guards and servants who had been ordered to search the entire kingdom for the King's Hand just a few minutes ago were simply standing there gawking at him. Joffrey's expression was even more priceless.

"Y-you?" Joffrey hissed, "We've been searching for ages. When…when did you get here? How?"

"I just got back, and the Doctor had kindly dropped me off," Tyrion explained. In the corner of his eyes he noticed Shae, in her servant girl outfit, standing in the corner of the throne room looking very relieved. Tyrion smiled, but did not make eye contact in order to protect the secrecy of their relationship.

"In case you're wondering, we weren't kidnapped," Tyrion continued, "The Doctor's ship just happened to land on the exact spot Sansa and I were standing on by chance. It was all just a mistake."

Joffrey narrowed his eyes in suspicion, bringing his full attention upon his impish uncle. There was something off about the situation to him. "If it really was just an accident, then where's Sansa? Surely she should be here with you."

Tyrion smirked. He was going to love this part.

"Oh yes, about that. It seems like Lady Sansa has made it her decision to stay behind with the Doctor. In fact, at this very moment they should be arriving in Winterfell, where the Doctor will be returning Sansa to her home."

Joffrey immediately stood up and exclaimed, "What!?"

The young monarch's reaction only helped to further amuse Tyrion. Explaining the entire situation to Joffrey, well, at least the parts he understood, was looking to be quite the source of entertainment.

"While we were with the Doctor, we discussed, amongst other things, Sansa's life here in King's Landing," continued Tyrion with his exposition, "And the idea of the Doctor taking her away was brought up. After some convincing Lady Sansa consented to it and, well, the rest is history. They dropped me off here and went off to take Sansa to her home in Winterfell."

If one could observe the expression that had formed on Joffrey's face as Tyrion spoke, they would've mistaken it for constipation. The royal bastard was furious, absolutely so, and as per usual he would express his rage through childish tantrums.

"That…that man is dead!" he raged, "Dead. So, so very dead. I will…when I catch him I will string him up by his intestines and make him watch as I burn that bitch of his alive! I swear it, upon my father, upon the throne, upon my crown, I swear that I wil-…"

"Fail to find him and never get a chance at venting your anger," Tyrion said mockingly, cutting the boy off in mid rant, "He's unreachable to you. Not even with a million armies and a fleet of dragons at your command would you be able to find him."

Joffrey took the factual comment rather badly, "That's a lie! I. Am. The king! I will find him and I will give him hell. He won't even know what's coming."

Even Pycelle knew the boy was talking out of his ass, "M-my King, I beg your pardon but, I don't thin-…"

"And that little, mewling quim Sansa," continued Joffrey, paying his advisor no mind, "She will pay most of all. I will make her my Queen, oh yes I will. I'll even make another throne for her, right here in this room next to mine. And then I'll cut her legs off and chain her to it, so she can be a Queen forever!"

My, could the boy be graphic, Tyrion thought. "So, how exactly do you expect to find him? He could be anywhere right now."

Joffrey laughed and looked smug, "Heh, uncle, you underestimate me. I have seven kingdoms at my command, and I will search every last inch of them to find him. There's nowhere he could hide."

Tyrion tried not to laugh. That wouldn't be good. "Did you forget that three of those kingdoms are in open rebellion against you? Shouldn't you be more worried about your war with Robb Stark?"

"This is more important!" Joffrey exclaimed in response, "That vile man personally humiliated me in front of my court, and stole my future queen. I will not rest until he has paid!"

Tyrion sighed. Why did they have to be stuck with such a vicious and idiotic ruler?

"Then again," continued Joffrey, "If Sansa is being taken to her former home, then defeating Robb Stark in battle and reclaiming Winterfell would be my best bet at taking her back, and finding that damn Doctor as well."

Well, at least he had some sense to him.

"And what about you, uncle," said Joffrey, addressing his Hand, "Why didn't you do anything to stop Sansa? It would be wise of you to give me a good excuse."

Tyrion shrugged. It would probably be best not to tell him that he was the one who brought the idea up in the first place. "What were you expecting me to do? The Doctor easily disarmed one of your elite King's Guard with a single flick of his magic wand. And you expect me to stop him?"

"As my loyal hand," Joffrey said with a glare, "I at least expect you to try, yet I don't see a single sign of a scuffle or confrontation on you!"

Tyrion sighed, "Okay then; when I realized that the vile and malicious witch doctor was attempting to swindle off with my liege's future queen, a fierce storm of loyalty erupted within me, forcing me, against all reason, to blindly rush the Doctor. In response, he promptly knocked me out with a single flick of his magic wand before dropping me off back here in King's Landing. And that's how I got here."

The sarcasm oozing from Tyrion's words was so thick, it was a wonder that it didn't somehow manifest itself as a physical, tangible mass and flood the entire throne room. Joffrey seemed none the wiser, however.

"That's the spirit, uncle," he said, "Better a pathetic wimp than a traitor and coward. Now then-…"

"Ah, before anything else," Tyrion interrupted, "could you perhaps reassemble the entire court?"

"Why?" asked Joffrey, perplexed and a tiny bit suspicious.

"I need to make an announcement to them all, as your Hand," Tyrion explained, "It concerns the Doctor. I still have some important information I managed to come across during the encounter that I haven't told you yet."

"Then why don't you tell me now? Does the entire court really have to know?"

"Trust me, Joffrey," answered Tyrion with the most disarming smile, "You'll understand when I make the announcement."

The young monarch was hesitant, but eventually relented, "Fine, fine. Summon the court. This had better not be some sort of prank, uncle."

Tyrion scoffed, "Oh please, Joffrey, do you take me for some mischievous gremlin. I'm not that kind of imp."

And so, the court of King Joffrey Baratheon was reassembled. All of the courtiers that had gathered again in the throne room were confused, but curious as to why they had been summoned. Many of them were wondering if it had anything to do with the bizarre events that took place earlier.

With so many witnesses, news of the magical Doctor and his blue box had spread like wildfire through King's Landing. At this rate, pretty soon not a single soul in the city would be unaware of Joffrey's public humiliation at the hands of the otherworldly mad man.

"Good afternoon, lords and ladies of the court," announced Tyrion, addressing all of the courtiers and drawing their attention to him, "I'm sure you must all be anxious to find out why you've been summoned again."

"Does this have anything to do with the Doctor from earlier," asked one of the courtiers, an old nobleman who Tyrion could not recall the name of.

"It does, in fact," Tyrion answered, "As I'm sure you must have all been told by now, that Lady Sansa Stark and I were "kidnapped" by the Doctor, although that's not exactly true. But we did indeed have an encounter with him and his companion, and so I've summoned you all here to share an interesting little thing I managed to take away from the encounter."

Tyrion had the entire court hanging on his every word. Like any good supernatural occurrence, the incident with the Doctor and his blue box was an affair that absolutely drew the attention of anyone involved. Any further word or piece of information that could be disseminated left the courtiers curious to the point of anxiety.

They were dying to here the rest, and Tyrion was the one who could provide them with that.

"I have here," continued Tyrion, while pulling out an older model of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver from his pocket, "one of the Doctor's magic wands. I managed to discreetly smuggle it with me during the encounter we had."

The entire court gasped in shock and amazement. Even Joffrey, who wasn't informed of anything before hand, was surprised and immediately captivated.

"Now, after tinkering and fiddling with it for quite some time," said Tyrion before pressing one of the sonic screwdriver's input buttons, "I think I've managed to learn a bit of its function."

Of course, Tyrion didn't really learn how to use the sonic screwdriver on his own. The Doctor had taught him just one specific setting and how to use it. And, just as planned, that setting released a special pulse from the screwdriver upon being triggered by the dwarf.

It was a trans-temporal pulse; one that echoed through the Time Vortex itself. The pulse crossed time, space, and dimensions to reach a certain blue box, hundreds of miles and an indefinite amount of time away.

Inside that wonderful blue box, a 1200 year old alien danced around a console manipulating controls and setting flight plans. Using the trans-temporal pulse as a beacon, he homed in on Tyrion's spatio-temporal coordinates. With one final push of a lever, that magnificent blue box took off into the Time Vortex.

_vworp vworp vworp_

* * *

Meanwhile, right after Tyrion was dropped off back at King's Landing, the Doctor was inputting coordinates for Winterfell. She had asked him to show her her childhood home, not only as proof that he really could do as he said and take her anywhere in the world (universe, he corrected), but to reassure her that the Doctor could truly be depended upon.

It was a smart move on Sansa's part as someone who didn't fully trust him, the Doctor thought. By having him take her to Winterfell, it gave her an out in case the Doctor's intentions weren't completely noble. Of course, the Doctor knew that this wasn't the case, but he could understand why a person in Sansa's position would be suspicious.

It was just some more psychological maneuvering. He figured it was Tyrion's idea.

While the Doctor was going about his normal routine with the TARDIS controls, Sansa was simply standing around watching him, completely and utterly bewildered. She understood none of this, except for the fact that the Doctor could potentially bring her home. And even that she had a hard time grasping.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" said a voice, startling the Stark girl from her reverie. The voice came from Clara. She smiled at the Westerosi noble lady, trying to make her feel as welcomed as possible in this alien environment.

Sansa was hesitant at first, but the chestnut headed girl from Earth was just so warm and inviting, she figured it would be okay to socialize a bit. "I…this…this is much, much more than just a lot to take in. I-I don't understand any of it, it's all so new and insane for me, like nothing I've ever seen! I mean, I've heard of magic before. They tell you stories about it when you're a little kid. But it's nothing like this, nothing even close to this. I don't get any of it, and I don't think I'm supposed to."

Clara laughed, "You're not. Not even I get most of it."

"Really?" asked Sansa, perplexed, "But aren't you…with him? Shouldn't you-…?"

"Oh no," Clara replied, cutting the girl off, "I'm not…I'm not the same as him. I'm just a normal human being like you. Perfectly normal. The Doctor and I are just travelling companions."

Now Sansa was curious. Although she wasn't as strange and bizarre as the good Doctor, Clara wasn't exactly the kind of person she'd ever expect to find anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms. "So…how did you end up with a guy like him, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You make it sound like we're a couple, or something," Clara replied in exasperation, "But no, I don't mind telling you. It's quite the story, actually…"

Before she could continue with her tirade, a shuddering thud resounded through the TARDIS, knocking everyone off balance and cutting her off. They had landed.

"It's also a story for another time, apparently," Clara remarked as they recovered from the brief jolt, "But hey, this is more important. You're finally home Sansa."

That's when it finally dawned on her. Those four words made her realize the gravity of her situation. If this was all true, and not some cruel trick being played on her somehow, then that meant she could finally go home. She was a few feet and several seconds away from Winterfell, from family, from safety, and from home. Sansa could finally leave her hellish life in the capitol behind.

"Well then, Lady Sansa of House Stark, what are you waiting for?" said the Doctor with a smirk, as if he'd read her mind, "Winterfell is just through those doors."

Gulping involuntarily, the auburn-haired noble girl slowly inched towards the TARDIS's main doors. The ensuing seconds passed with the perceived slowness of entire years, and it felt like an eternity just walking to the exit. When the girl finally reached the door, she placed her hands on the knobs and shut her eyes tightly.

Sansa felt tears begin to well up, but she forced them down wanting to be strong. There was a pregnant pause before she finally, _finally_ opened the door. Her eyes were still closed when she did so, but even so she felt the in-draft of cold, fresh air embrace her body immediately upon opening.

The cold breeze felt familiar on her very skin, painting pictures of her childhood and bringing up fond memories and a sensation of nostalgia within Sansa's mind. This had to be it. There was no mistaking it. She opened her eyes.

It was Winterfell. Her home. She had returned.

"Ain't that sweet," remarked Clara Oswald from afar. She watched as Sansa began to break down from happiness, moved by the entire experience. Noticing this, Clara's Time Lord companion jogged up next to Sansa and supported the now sobbing girl from behind.

"I-I can't believe it. I'm…I'm really home," Sansa cried as tears of joy burst from her eye ducts. The Doctor cradled her head in his chest and gently caressed her head, soothing the overwhelmed adolescent. Pretty soon Clara herself was at their side, giving Sansa her own support and attention. The scene was positively heartwarming.

After a few more minutes of crying and tears, Sansa regained her composure and asked, "S-so, this is it? I'm just free to leave?"

Clara smiled and said, "Of course. You must have missed your home so much, it would be a crime to keep you any longer, dear."

"Or you can go on an adventure with us, it'll be fun!" the Doctor chimed in, only to be promptly elbowed by his companion, "But it's really up to you."

"What are you two going to do after this?" Sansa inquired, shifting the subject.

Clara and the Doctor gave each other smug, knowing looks, as if they were sharing a secret between themselves.

"We're heading back to King's Landing once we've dropped you off. We have…something planned for good ol' Joffers. That's why we left Tyrion behind," the Doctor said with a mischievous look on his face. It didn't take long for Sansa to catch on.

She smiled. After thinking about it for a little while, she figured home could wait a little bit longer.

"Whatever it is…I want in on it."

* * *

_vworp vworp vworp_

Panic ensured amongst the courtiers, as the TARDIS rematerialized in the throne room for the penultimate time. This time the spot of its landing was right next to the Iron Throne, giving Joffrey quite the fright and putting the young monarch on edge. He reached for his loaded crossbow.

The only one in the entire room not shocked and panicking was Tyrion, having known ahead of time that this was going to occur. The dwarf put on a façade of surprise and said, with the most sarcastic tone possible, "Oh my, did I do that?"

When the TARDIS completely finished materializing, the wooden doors opened immediately. In response to this Joffrey took aim and fired a single crossbow bolt. Like earlier, however, the arrow impacted harmlessly upon the TARDIS's force field generated by the Tribophysical Waveform Macro-kinetic Extrapolator.

Out popped the Doctor, whose first move as he exited the TARDIS was to knock Joffrey's cross bow out of his arms with the sonic screwdriver. Trailing behind him were Clara and Sansa. The two ladies sprinted in front of Joffrey as fast as they could, before delivering the most devastating and ear-splitting two-slap combo in Westerosi history.

The boy king could not even react, as he was slapped first on his left cheek by Clara, followed immediately by a megaton slap to his right cheek from his former betrothed. The second slap from Sansa was noticeably stronger than Clara's because it had all of Sansa's pain, sorrow, and rage from her time at King's Landing focused entirely into its force.

All of the knights, noblemen, and other courtiers in the throne room collectively gasped in shock as their king was smacked in the face by the two young ladies. Tyrion, while gaping, was doing it for an entirely different reason. He was beginning to feel that all of the slaps he had given Joffrey over the years may have been a bit inadequate.

One member of Joffrey's Kingsguard finally decided to take action, charging at the three individuals assaulting his liege. Just as he was about to swing his blade, however, the Doctor used the sonic to send it flying out of his hand just like he had done to Ser Meryn earlier.

While this was going on, Clara and Sansa grabbed the still reeling and disoriented monarch together and began using teamwork and their combined strength to drag him towards the TARDIS. The Doctor guarded them. With a smug look on his face and his trusty screwdriver in hand, he challenged any knight in the room to try and stop them if they dared.

One brave soul answered his challenge, discarding his blade and moving to engage the Doctor in hand-to-hand combat.

Thankfully, the Hound was not present in the room at the time (having been sent out earlier by Joffrey to try and search for the Doctor), or else this might have ended differently. Instead, the hapless knight was quickly immobilized and promptly flipped over by a rare showcasing of Venusian Aikido.

"I haven't used that in centuries," remarked the Doctor after easily defeating his opponent, "I'm a bit surprised that I still remember."

By that time, Clara and Sansa had already finished wrestling the helpless Joffrey into the TARDIS doors. Before any other knights could rise to challenge him, the Doctor quickly followed after them into the TARDIS, shutting the door behind him.

It had all happened so fast. It wasn't until the TARDIS began dematerializing, accompanied by its signature screeching sound, until it finally sunk in. With the TARDIS now gone, all of the occupants of the room suddenly realized it; their king was just kidnapped under their very noses, and they weren't able to do a damn thing.

Mass panic ensued, or it would have, if not even a few seconds later the TARDIS started materializing again for the fourth and final time. It was in the very same spot as before, and upon landing the doors opened immediately. With a girlish shriek, one Joffrey Baratheon was thrown comically out of the Time Lord vessel, landing and skidding without ceremony next to his very own throne.

Joffrey looked a bit different from before, however. For one thing, he was completely naked, with the exception of a modest loin cloth. There was a chicken (alive or dead, no one could tell) seemingly glued to the top of his head like a hat. And covering his entire body were copious amounts of green…stuff.

It was the color of guacamole and seemed to have the texture and viscosity of semi-solid diarrhea fluid, but even the omniscient narrator explaining all of this to you readers didn't know and didn't want to know what it really was.

Finally, the royal bastard was covered in numerous angry red rashes, of which the hapless monarch could not help but scratch incessantly.

It was so absolutely ridiculous seeing the ruler in such a state, that while all of the courtiers were shocked, bewildered, and astonished at first, it wasn't long before a few chuckles and giggles were heard in the throne room. Very soon it erupted into total laughter at Joffrey's expense, resulting in his completely and utter humiliation.

Unbeknownst to them, it hadn't been just a few seconds for Joffrey. After being carted off into the TARDIS, Clara and Sansa had their "fun" with him for quite awhile before time travelling back, making it appear as if they've only been gone for a short while.

"I-I'll…I'll have all of your heads for this!" Joffrey shrieked, throwing a tantrum. He burned with rage at his humiliation, and if he hadn't been as young as he was the blood vessels in his head probably would've popped due to anger.

His little outburst was ignored however, as the Doctor's head popped out from the open TARDIS. Smiling with glee, the Time Lord began waving at his now laughing audience as if he was some kind of celebrity.

"Thank you, thank you," he said, "I'll be here all week. Well, not really, I'm actually leaving and most likely never coming back, but that doesn't sound nearly as cool. "

With a grin on his face, the Doctor spotted Tyrion in the crowd and gave him a friendly point and look, to which the dwarf responded with a little salute. His work here now finished, the Doctor cheerily retreated back into the TARDIS, shutting the door behind him.

Of course, poor Joffrey wouldn't have that. "Did you not here me, you deaf imbecile! I said I'll have your head! Listen to me! I am Joffrey Baratheon, protector of the realm and lord of the seven kingdoms! I! Am! The King!"

The TARDIS doors reopened in response.

"Oh yeah," the Doctor said in reply, "Well I'm the Lord of Time. Toodles."

And that was that. The wooden doors of that fantastic blue box closed for one final time, and the TARDIS was off into the Time Vortex. Never again would the Lord of Time and his companion set foot in King's Landing.

But the story was not over yet.

* * *

_vworp vworp vworp_

At the other end of the continent known only as Westeros, just outside and overlooking a place called Winterfell, a blue box began to materialize. Inside that wonder of Gallifreyan technology, a goodbye was being made.

"Here, keep this," said the Doctor as he handed Sansa his sonic screwdriver, "Whenever you need us, if ever in the future, just give it a little click. Just the way I showed Tyrion."

Sansa was bewildered, "I-I, but…this is yours?"

The Doctor smirked, "I can always have another one made. Just keep it."

Reluctantly, Sansa accepted the gift feeling that it might come in handy if Joffrey ever gave her a problem in the future. She embraced the Doctor in turn, showing her gratitude.

"I…I can't possibly ever thank you two enough," Sansa cried, as she disengaged from the alien and gave his human companion her own hug, "There's no way I could ever express all of my gratitude."

"Then don't. You don't need to thank us," Clara said in reply, "Besides, it was fun, especially what we did with Joffrey."

Sansa and Clara shared a mischievous look, "I didn't even know there were that many applications for whip cream and grape juice."

The Doctor shrugged, "Over a thousand years of travelling across all of time and space, and you learn quite a few things."

The two girls chuckled at his explanation, before a brief period of awkward silence ensued.

Then Sansa spoke, "I…I should probably be going now."

The Doctor and Clara both nodded at her in support, edging the girl on to start walking towards the door. She gripped the gifted sonic screwdriver in her hand tightly, as the feeling of anxiety welled up within her being.

In a few moments, she would be home. The only thing in between her and Winterfell were two wooden doors. She opened them.

"Don't forget about us, eh," the Doctor said, although she didn't quite hear him while marveling at the view of Winterfell, "One of these days you could even go on a big adventure with us."

Sansa looked back at them, her eyes glistening with liquid joy and the most liberating expression on her face. "Yes, maybe I will. Someday," she said, "But for now, I'm home. Goodbye, Doctor. Goodbye, Clara Oswald. And thank you."

Then just like that, Lady Sansa of House Stark walked out of the TARDIS, shutting the wooden doors closed behind her.

The Doctor and his human companion were left alone in the console room, just as it had been before. After what they did for Sansa, Clara felt resplendent. "That was really nice," she said, as she reached over to lock her alien friend in a deep embrace, "I feel warm and mushy inside."

"Of course you do," the Time Lord replied, "Its normal to feel that way after helping someone."

Clara smiled, "Then I'm glad I get to travel with you. It's true, being able to hang inside an alien's time machine and travel across the entire universe is great and all, but I think this…this feeling I get when we help people…it's the best. Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome," he replied as they broke the embrace, "And you're right, it is the best. It's why I do what I do. The universe…it's so vast and wonderful and sometimes a bit terrifying. There are good things, but there are tragedies and horrors too. And that's why it's beautiful. A perfect world would be nice, but the reality we live in offers us the opportunity to right the wrongs and help people like Sansa."

That fuzzy, resplendent feeling continued to wash over Clara as the Doctor's eloquent words sunk in. Joining him on this journey across the cosmos truly was the greatest decision she ever made, Clara thought. Thank the stars for "the greatest help line in the universe".

"You know, it was kind of strange how the whole time she was with us, Sansa never said anything about the whole "smaller-on-the-outside" part," Clara remarked, suddenly drawing the Doctor's attention to the oddity.

"Huh, you're right," the Doctor replied, a bit off put, "What a shame, that's my favorite part. Oh, and it's not smaller on the outside, its bigge-…"

"Yeah, whatever," Clara interjected, cutting off the infamous phrase, "Isn't that weird though how she didn't say anything?"

The Doctor shrugged, "Maybe she did notice but just chalked it up to magic."

What the Doctor and Clara didn't know, however, was that Sansa never got the chance to take note of the TARDIS's dimensionally transcendental nature. The first time it landed she never actually got to see the inside.

The second time, the TARDIS landed on her and Tyrion, causing her to materialize directly within the console room. And the third time, things were far too hectic with their kidnapping of Joffrey for her to really notice.

This time was different. And, at that moment, if either Clara or the Doctor cared to listen hard enough, they would hear a few choice words coming from just outside the TARDIS.

"IT…IT WAS BIGGER ON THE INSIDE!"

The End

A.N. And with that, the Lord of Time is complete. While there will be more short stories in the future, they'll be separate plots not related to this one. Of course, as I said before its possible for me to continue this specific plot line if there is popular demand since the ending was left open.

I'm not sure exactly when the next short story will come out, as I haven't started writing it yet (sadly to say), but I assure you it will come out.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed that. Please review, review, and review!


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